I don’t want this anymore. Adulthood. Responsibility. I just want to walk down the sidewalk into the trees, past the highways, to a stream where I can just sit and stare at the sun ripple over the currents until the dark quiet — where I can sleep and forget who I am, where I was, what the world is and just be a tree by a brook growing, leaves falling, branches cracking, with a purpose.
I have this false idea that somehow I ought to be a pillar of stability. To support my wife. To support my kids. To support my friends. No one should ever know me, because that is the way God wants it. That is humility. That is service. That is self sacrifice and that will lead me to a closer to God. He’ll maybe listen if I’m helping other. Useful. A utility.
There is no one to pay attention. To sit still. To listen past the buzz in their own ears (that they refuse to listen to). No one will listen, because it’s not really important. Of course I fail. I fall. I drift. I expect more of myself than I can possibly carry. The load is heavy, my shoulders sore and blistered. And I’m angry. I’m frustrated. I’m frightened. And the questions keep coming like butterflies — quietly fluttering aimlessly, tossed by the wind and whim of random motion.
Why do I do this? Why am I important? What is my value? Will I ever feel whole? Can I know what it is to be content? Will God really allow me the desires of my heart? … ? … ? … ?
I have collapsed. I’m tired and empty. Unsure of my own footing. I feel the world flip over on itself – without a perspective; neither up or down, falling or rising. No one to stop me. No one who cares — not that much. In space there is no sound and no one can hear you — there is no air. But the stars sure are beautiful. For now I just need some peace and rest.
This too shall pass and may circle round again. Perhaps the desires of my heart will be known and I won’t feel so alone with everyone watching — as I smile and make them laugh so they never look closely.